


beautiful (terrible thing)

by verivala



Series: Grindeldore one-shots [17]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1945, Angst, Bitterness, Bittersweet, Crying, M/M, Memories, The Duel, abuse of commas, can someone tell me how to use commas because idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 09:34:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20722046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verivala/pseuds/verivala
Summary: What would have happened if Albus had asked Gellert which one of them it was that had killed Ariana?





	beautiful (terrible thing)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my bff for beta 😘

_“The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with caution.” – Albus Dumbledore_

* * *

The ground that met his knees was wet and muddy from the magic-induced storm that had raged through just moments before. Gellert stayed kneeling on the ground, panting, his heart heavy with defeat. The smell of the wet ground, the autumn air lending it a taste of dying things, filled his nostrils, mixed with a touch of scorched wood and fabric, and the irony smell of fresh blood. He could taste it in his mouth, the cut stinging where he had bitten down. He spat on the ground, and the mix of blood and saliva disappeared among the mud. His wand, the Wand, the goal of all his childhood dreams and ambitions lay on the ground in front of him, the length of it buried in the mud as if in a symbol of his defeat. He did not scramble towards it. If nothing else, he still had his dignity.

A pair of heeled boots appeared in his field of vision, and a pale hand adorned with rings picked up the wand.

Gellert closed his eyes; he did not want to look at him. He did not want to see the expression on his face, were it triumph or more likely - knowing him - pity. He could not take it. He had been defeated, not by Albus' formidable skills (and they were, and he was; together they would have been glorious, together they would have razed this world to the ground and built a new one out of the ashes) but by his foolish heart. Albus had stumbled for just a moment, and Gellert had been ready, the words that would end Albus' life prepared on his lips. And then- and then he had suddenly, vividly been reminded of how it had felt to kiss his lips for the first time, or how their minds had intertwined against each other as they lay together beneath cooling sheets. It had only been for a moment, but it had been enough for him to hesitate, enough for Albus to regain his bearings and strip him of his wand and of his pride.

Anger burned his insides. Anger at Albus and anger at himself, anger entangled with the bitter taste of defeat. It was all so _typical_ of Albus Dumbledore. Despite all of Gellert's precautions, despite his superior wand, Albus had only needed a moment to shred Gellert of all his defences, only a moment to make a fool out of him yet again. Cursing himself for falling for it, his fingers, buried deep on the ground, curled in on themselves. The cold mud squished uncomfortably between them.

A quiet question startled Gellert out of his recriminations. "Which one of us was it?"

Gellert immediately knew what Albus was asking. He did not look up, letting the silence linger. The thought that that was what Albus considered important- here, now, at the end of him, at the end of _them_ – was enough to bring back that original anger Gellert had felt back then, at the moment of that first betrayal. He dug his nails deep into the skin of his palms.

"You know, don't you?" Albus asked, his voice quiet, desperate. Gellert raised his head, the anger making him eager to see his expression; to see him hurting as well. The first thing he registered was Albus’ robe, once ostentatious, now muddied and torn from battle. His hair was dishevelled, individual greying strands framing a face that would have appeared free of emotion to anyone who did not know him as well as Gellert did. He looked calm, in control, but there was a wrinkle between his brows that indicated pain, and his eyes were dim, lacking their customary twinkle.

Gellert smiled; it seemed that not all power had been stripped from him yet. Licking his lips to wet them, he asked, his voice raspy from duelling, "Is that why you have been avoiding me for so long? Were you afraid I would tell you what you fear is the truth?"

A quick, pained squeeze of his eyelids. That would be a yes then. Gellert had wondered. He had felt it when Albus had broken the pact, some years ago now, (the pain had been excruciating, for a moment he had thought that they would both die where they stood, far apart, both in their own towers, and had laughed at the poetic irony of it all,) and had immediately readied himself for a confrontation. When Albus had not appeared, Gellert had reassessed, and run through every imaginable reason for Albus to delay and how he could make use out of it. This had been one of them. (Another reason that he had suspected he had disregarded immediately, for it had been pure foolishness on his part. There was no way it could be true, not after everything. If it ever had been.)

Albus drew in a deep breath, his face down, and his teeth gritted, not from anger but as if he was bracing himself against some invisible pain. "Gellert, please, tell me-" he pleaded, his voice cutting off as if he could not bear to force out the rest of the sentence, which was most likely not far from the truth.

Gellert thought about not answering, or giving him the truth, making Albus feel the pain he had caused Gellert. He thought about a girl, golden-haired, quiet, handing him flowers she had picked up from the garden. He thought of her screams for them to stop, how she had rushed between them- he thought of the black smoke rising from her that had made it hard to see- of the alarm on Aberforth's face, the immediate lowering of his wand- he thought of himself, mad with anger but with enough presence of mind to aim away from the girl. He thought of Albus, the forming of the words on his lips, too slowly halted, his wand raised - he thought of her body hitting the wall, the crack her head had made against it, the smoke that had suddenly faded and revealed the trail of blood that had been left when she had slumped on the floor. He thought of the horror slowly dawning on Albus' face, the agonised scream leaving Aberforth's lips. He thought of Albus’ wand, still raised in the air, as Aberforth’s sobs echoed in the kitchen. He thought – with some anger- of the silent tears streaming down Albus’ face as he held back his enraged brother and asked Gellert to leave.

As Gellert thought of the devastation on Albus' face back then, his eyes flickered back up to him. He was waiting for him to talk, the desolation Gellert had seen back then lingering on the edges of his expression. Gellert knew then - that although it was he that had been defeated today - that he had the power to destroy Albus Dumbledore completely. (It was a familiar feeling, holding the power of life and death over someone, but this time – despite the simmering anger burning deep inside his gut – the thought gave him no pleasure.)

All he needed to do was to tell the truth.

The sound of voices shouting instructions could be heard then, shattering the bubble of silence around them. Heavy boots made squelching noises against the mud as multiple sets of feet briskly approached them. Gellert could feel the time to make his decision running out. Almost before knowing what he was going to say, he opened his mouth and whispered, "It was me."

(When it came to Albus Dumbledore, his heart had always been foolish.)

Rough hands clasped tightly around Gellert’s shoulders, and he was wrestled up from the ground. The last sight he saw before he was transported away was of silent tears that were slowly making their way down Albus’ cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, please consider leaving a comment. They are what keeps me going 😊
> 
> My Tumblr: bloodtroth


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